by Matthew Fish
“Nope,” Emma whispers.
“Not a single thing.” Alexis adds as she looks to Emma and represses a smile.
“Did you drive here in your condition?” Emma asks as she grows furious at Ethan for his recklessness.
“What does it matter?” Ethan adds as he attempts to make his way to where the kitchen once was and sets the pizza boxes down on the edge of a table that precariously hangs above the series of platforms. “It’s all over tomorrow right?”
“It’s not over.” Alexis says. “Not for you—or Emma, or Justine.”
“Well then don’t I look like a dick?”
“Just relax,” Emma says as she helps Ethan up the stairs as Alexis follows behind.
“Ethan?” Justine asks as she emerges from Emma’s room to see the stumbling man attempt to ascent the spiral staircase.
“Hey…” Ethan says in an obnoxious tone. “Do you want a beer? They’re downstairs.”
“I don’t drink,” Justine answers shortly as she returns to the room to be with Hope.
Emma helps Ethan into her room and lays her down against her bed. “Just sober up...how long have you been drinking anyway?”
“How many hours has it been since lunch?”
“You mean noon?”
“Sure,” Ethan adds.
“About eight and half,” Emma says as she shakes her head.
“About eight…and a half…” Ethan repeats. “You’ve got a very comfortable bed. I like couches though. It’s harder to fall out of a couch. I like hammocks as well.”
“That’s really interesting,” Alexis says sarcastically.
“Is he sick?” Hope asks as she sits on the floor next to Justine.
“He’s just an idiot right now,” Alexis says as she shrugs her shoulders. “It’ll pass.”
The sun shines dimly through the curtains of Emma’s room as a single beam of light passes through the small opening. Particles of dust dance in the beam as everyone, except Ethan, looks to the last ray of sunlight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Justine says as she places her arms around Hope.
“I have to go now…” Hope whispers as she looks to Alexis.
“Yep kiddo,” Alexis says with a nod. “Here, take my hand—it won’t be so bad.”
“I’ll see you in soon,” Emma says as she leans in and gives Alexis a hug, she then reaches down and places her arms around Hope’s small form. “Both of you…”
“Elizabeth should be here,” Justine says.
“She’s sleeping,” Alexis says as she looks sadly as the last beam of light fades away turning the room a shade of grey. “It’s better to go out that way.”
Emma looks away as the painful process begins to unfold. She remembers how it was for her—the intense burning, the pain. She only had to endure it one night.
Justine begins to cry as the final embers disappear into the evening light. Emma walks over to Justine and places her hand to her back and begins to rub her back reassuringly. “It’ll be alright.”
Emma looks to Ethan, who has passed out completely. “Well, I was going to offer you this bed.”
“I don’t think I could even sleep,” Justine says as she looks to Emma as fresh tears stream down from her eyes. “I know what Hope is. I just can’t help but feel sad.”
“Hope is who I was when I was happiest—or the most innocent,” Emma adds. “Terrible things happened to me right around her age, things that I didn’t even remember because I had blocked them away. She helped me remember, both her and Alexis.”
“All I see is a person—a young girl.”
“I feel the same way,” Emma says as she looks to the darkness that is encroaching outside the window. “I feel that way about all of them. I would keep them safe—but the price would be too heavy.”
“I know…” Justine says as she wipes away the tears from her eyes. “I’ll still have you though, right?”
“Of course,” Emma says with a laugh. “We’re friends.”
“You’ll paint with me?”
“I’d love to learn,” Emma says as she leads Justine out of her old room and shuts the door. “If you’d want to re-teach me, I would be happy to paint with you.”
“She paints the strangest things,” Justine says as she attempts to break away her sadness with a smile, “She painted a dolphin…in space.”
“Like I said,” Emma says as she laughs. “I was an odd kid.”
Emma opens the door to her attic bedroom and gestures to the bed. “You should try and rest—I have a feeling we’re going to be up very early.”
Justine nods as she walks over to the bed and plops down allowing a sigh to escape. “What will you do?”
“There’s something I have to take care of,” Emma says as she feels drawn down to the basement. “After that, I will try and rest.”
“Alright,” Justine says as she pulls the blanket up to her knees as she sits up in bed. “Take care of yourself, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Take care,” Emma says as she nods. “Try and rest.”
Emma shuts the attic room door and begins to descend the spiral staircase. There is something on her mind that has bothered her from the very beginning, that strange room with the stone slab—the one that gives her shivers of fear every time she passes it. Emma navigates her way down the platforms, careful to not slip and fall. It is as though someone attempted to make a series of cliffs to climb down, but disregarded to make it safe in the least bit. Bits of broken splintered wood jut out dangerously. Some of the platforms slope forward; others are covered with protruding nails from the wooden floor. Emma’s feet finally reach concrete as she begins to head down the hallway. She takes the first turn. A strange feeling of dread overwhelms her and begs her to return to the safety of the upper floors of the house. As Emma enters the concrete room with the stone slab on the middle, her anxiety has grown exponentially. Her pulse is racing.
“What is it about this room?” Emma asks herself aloud as she paces around the stone slab, she runs her fingers across the smooth surface. Different flashes of memory play in her head, slaughtered pigs being cut apart—their corpses hanging from hooks in the large wooden beam at the far end of the wall. Emma was sure this was probably real, but how did it relate to her? An idea came to Emma’s mind as she crawled up and sat against the cold slab of stone.
“Well…” Emma says as she takes a breath in and attempts to calm her panicking mind. “I suppose there is one way to find out.”
Emma places her back against the smooth surface of the stone. Through her thin white dress her body shivers against the slab. Emma rests her head uncomfortably against the completely flat surface. She brings her hand up her head and whispers a simple command. “Sleep…”
Day 7
Chapter 8: Re-acceptance
Emma awakens from a fitful night of sleep. Her mind is confused. She does not remember what she is doing here—or how she got here. Panic overcomes her as she realizes that for a moment, she cannot remember who she is. The only thing she does know, or feel rather, is that she has to get out of the house.
Emma stands in front of her door; she puts her ear to it as though she anticipates something terrible. When nothing but silence is heard, Emma feels that it is safe to venture out of the house. She tiptoes past her father’s office, careful that the floorboard does not creak and give away the fact that she is awake. She does not understand why she is so fearful.
Once clear, Emma passes the bathroom and rushes down the spiral staircase as swift as her small feet will carry her. She runs through the red hallway and opens up the door and slams it behind her. As she circles the house and begins to run into the woods, she hears the voice of her father as he emerges from the house.
“Emma?” The voice booms. “You’re not to leave the house!”
Emma senses that she is doing something wrong—she quickens her pace as she hears footsteps in the brush following her. She runs and runs until she squeezes through her secret passage in
the tall brush and enters the thick forest.
“Emma!” The voice booms off in the distance.
Emma stops to rest just outside of the greenhouse filled with plants and flowers. Catching her breath, she pauses and places her hands upon the warm glass; the sun is reflected through the trees and shines brightly against the panel.
“Emma!” Her father’s voice yells. He is growing closer.
Emma runs into the greenhouse. She looks for a hiding place. She spots the bed in the corner of the room. She crawls beneath the bed. Curiously, Emma spots a white box that has been stuffed into an empty spot carved out beneath mattresses and the wooden frame. Emma takes the box and opens it—she finds a silver knife with the letters ‘SOL’ engraved on the blade.
“Where are you?” Her father’s voice says as he nears the entrance of the greenhouse.
Emma wraps the knife in her dress and ties it in a knot. She crawls out just as her father spots her from outside the window.
“Stop…!” Her father shouts.
Emma begins to run down the hallway. Her father follows a distance behind her. Emma continues to run as fast as she can—desperate to not get caught. As she reaches the end of the hallway she is met with a bricked off wall.
“No…” Emma whimpers as she pounds her fists against the wall. She is boxed in, and her father is swiftly approaching her. Emma places all of her weight against the wall, it does not budge. She looks to the right of her and begins to strike her fists against the brick—it makes a strange hollow sound. Emma places her small weight against the brick wall and it gives away, opening up like a door as it squeaks on its hinges.
Emma runs with her hands outstretched in the darkness as she attempts to navigate her way in the hidden hallway that she has found. Her heart pounds in her chest as she hears footsteps approach. Emma begins to run blindly, her arms scraping against the rough rock. Emma charges through another door as she finds herself in the basement of the house. She attempts to close the false brick door behind her, but finds that there is no handle. She can hear her father as he rustles his way through the darkened hall. Emma begins to run, she heads into the closest room she can find—a room that has a large stone slab in the center. She runs into the room and cowers behind it the stone table.
“Where are you?” Her father asks as he enters the basement. “You should know better than to disobey me.”
He rounds the corner and enters the room. “You’re in here, aren’t you?”
Emma tries to keep as quiet as she possibly can. The footsteps echo in the room as he approaches closer. A hand reaches from around the table and grabs her by the collar of her dress. Her father lifts her up into the air and drops her down onto the table, knocking the air out of her lungs.
“You want to play games?” Her father asks as he climbs atop the table and inches closer to Emma. “Is this how you want it?”
Emma attempts to back away as her father places his hands upon her dress and begins to pull up. He does not notice the weight of the blade she has tied up. His mind is elsewhere. With one hand her father pins her down against the cold stone slab. With the other he reaches to Emma’s legs and pulls down her panties. Emma’s free hand fumbles with the makeshift knot that she has tied; she manages to undo the knot as the dress and grasps the silver blade.
“It didn’t have to be this way,” her father says as he pushes down against her causing her pinned arm to flare out in pain. “You could have just waited in your room and it would have been over—it’s going to be so much worse because you tried to run.”
Just as the man attempts to force his body upon her, Emma grasps the knife tightly and thrusts it with all of her might into her father’s stomach. Her hand feels warm as the sickening flow of blood begins to cover her hand. It begins to drip on her bare legs as he collapses to the side against the table. Emma drops down to the floor. A trail of crimson blood flows down from the table and begins to seep into a drain on the floor. She peeks over the edge of the table, her father is shuddering. His body is shaking. He attempts to make a noise but only gurgles up more blood. He attempts to reach the knife that has been completely submerged into his stomach. Before his fingertips can reach the handle, he stops moving completely.
Emma backs away slowly as she collapses against the wall. She sits there, motionless, staring at the body and watching the blood flow down into the drain for hours. More time passes, Emma loses track. Her mind begins to wander. She does not know what her father was doing—however she somehow knows that this was not the first time. She does not know why she is aware this day. She has very little memory of the past few months.
Her mother rushes to Emma.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Sarah says as she runs over and scoops up Emma in her arms. “Are you hurt?” She asks as she searches Emma’s body for any cuts.
“What happened to your dress?” Her mother asks as she runs a hand along Emma’s leg. She can see that there is some bruising and that her panties are torn and pulled down.
Emma points to the dead man on the table. “He was attacking me—“
“Stephen…?” Emma’s mother whispers as she places a hand over Emma’s eyes and enters the room. “Where did you find that knife?”
“Beneath the bed,” Emma answers calmly. “I was hiding.”
“Has this happened before?” Her mother asks as a tone of horror fills her voice.
“I don’t remember.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” her mother says as she carries her away.
“Emma…” A voice breaks through. “Emma…it’s time to wake up.”
Emma’s eyes wearily open as she is faced by Elizabeth—the sun necklace hangs around her neck. She looks a little healthier today; there are no dark circles beneath her eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s nearly morning,” Alexis says as she places her hand into Emma’s and helps her up from the stone slab. “What are you doing down here?”
“It was me,” Emma whispers as she faces Alexis. She looks around the room and sees no sign of Hope, Justine, or Ethan. “I was the one that killed our stepfather.”
“That’s why I could never remember that day?” Alexis asks as she continues to help Emma off of the table. “Only you knew…you just didn’t remember until now…”
“You have to forgive yourself,” Elizabeth says as she places a hand upon Emma’s shoulder. “Who knows how long it would have gone on if you hadn’t stopped him?”
“Did you have any memory of that?” Alexis asks as she turns to Elizabeth.
“Not until just now,” Elizabeth says meekly as she backs away. “Sometimes I can feel things that Emma can.”
“Why was that something only you knew?” Alexis asks as she looks confused. Then she begins to piece together the pieces. “You…You came back to save me that day. Then you left and let me return. Why didn’t you just stay?”
“I don’t know…” Emma whispers. She is still attempting to come to accept the idea that it was not her mother, nor Brian, but herself—she was the one that killed Stephen Langford. “I always felt strange about this room—ever since I was brought back six days ago—I just thought it was that I had found the cord I used down her. I didn’t know it was something else.”
“You did what you had to do,” Alexis says as she nods and places her arm around Emma. “There was no guilt in what you did.”
“I felt like I did something wrong,” Emma says as she shakes her head. “I did not realize what he had done to you so many times…”
“To all of us,” Alexis says as she grabs Elizabeth’s hand and draws her close. “Now we are whole—now we know the truth. I’m ready to leave.”
“Hey,” Ethan says as he and Justine hold hands with Hope as they round the corner. “Sorry about last night.”
“Its fine,” Emma says as she nods.
“I caught him up to speed,” Justine says as she looks sadly down to Hope.
“What are we doing?” Hope asks as
she looks up to Justine with bright eyes.
“I’ll take her from here,” Alexis says as she nods to Justine, who looks to be on the verge of tears once more. She takes Hope’s hand and kneels down next to her. “There’s a tunnel—just past the wall a little ways from here. We’re going to walk the tunnel until we reach the sunlight.”
“We’re going home,” Hope says as she looks to the floor and kicks at a piece of broken concrete with her bare foot. “Aren’t we…?”
Justine begins to cry as she can no longer choke back her tears. “You are…”
“Is it ending for everyone?” Hope asks as she turns to Emma. “You promised you’d try and stop this…”
“We are the way,” Elizabeth says as she kneels down and brushes a stray piece of golden hair away from Hope’s eyes. “When we go home, everyone will be safe.”
“I’m happy,” Hope says as she frees herself from Alexis’s hand and runs over and hugs Justine tightly. “You’re safe now. Thank you for painting with me. I was so happy.”
“I was happier than I have been in a long time,” Justine says as she wipes away her tears and smiles at the young girl. “You’re so brave.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Of course not,” Alexis says as she takes Hope’s hand. “We’re going to go together.”
“Walk with us to the hallway?” Elizabeth asks as she looks to the small group.
“Of course,” Emma says.
“That’s why we are here,” Justine adds.
“I’m with you,” Ethan says as his eyes narrow sadly as he looks away. He has not been exactly in the loop with what was going on—but it looks as though the weight of the sacrifice of the three is finally hitting him quite hard. “Of course, I’m with you.”
In silence the group walks down the corridors of the basement until they reach the hallway. They carefully step over the broken pieces of brick and enter into the hot red bricked corridor. Ethan shines his flashlight ahead to lead the way.